


What the Light Touched

by ObliObla



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Family, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 04, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 21:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19709455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla
Summary: From Lucifer Prompts: Post season 4 future. Lucifer never returned to Earth after the events of the season 4 finale. Maze and Amenadiel did stay on earth, watching over their human friends. Decades pass. One after another, all the humans eventually die. Charlie and Amenadiel leave Earth for the Silver City. Finally, Maze is left alone. She has new human acquaintances, even friends, but it’s not the same anymore. And she misses her old home in Hell. She calls for Lucifer, and he comes to bring her home.And for Lucifer Bingo prompt: A cold day in Hell





	What the Light Touched

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to [TheWillowBends](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWillowBends/pseuds/TheWillowBends) for her beta help!

When the little human—who hadn’t really been _little_ in decades—caught at her chest, unable to breathe, and fell, that was the last of them. Linda had gone first, far too soon— _anything would have been too soon_ —never frail, but so, _so_ tired at the end. Then Dan, half a look of joy on his face when he asked them to stop fighting for him, knowing that he would see Charlotte again. Ella smiled at Azrael when she came to take her hand and raise her up into the light. And Chloe…

Chloe held on until walking was nearly impossible, the gold in her hair long gone to silver. And she was so proud, through all of it, even when the last of her independence slipped away, even when all the ugliness of advanced age overtook her. She had not fallen into desolation, had lived her life well and fully, but when nightmares shook her weakening form, her twisted hand clutched tightly around Maze’s, she would gasp a familiar name, hope still burning within her.

But she went up to Heaven with all the others, left without her resolution, while Maze was abandoned in the dark to hold Trixie as she cried. And then she was gone too, and Amenadiel—the self-righteous, feathery bastard—looked down at Maze with one of his infuriatingly pitying expressions before he and Charlie drew out their wings and flew away.

And Maze was truly alone.

She had Lux with its endless crowds and alcohol to lose herself in, had Linda’s house, spacious but always empty, had other humans she’d come to call friends, but it wasn’t the same. There was no family left to her. And so, ultimately, she had only this place, where she’d begun to spend almost all of her time.

The cemetery’s security was laughable, and no one noticed her in the dark unless she wanted them to. She stalked between the gravestones, pausing occasionally to run her fingers over the engravings—all these humans she had once called hers, their souls sent up to Heaven.

Cemeteries were peaceful places—insects buzzing, the occasional nocturnal bird taking a silent wing through the dewy, grass sweetened air, a few cars passing by, their headlights cutting through the night. Trixie’s grave was still a little fresh, the dirt turned to reveal a worm, pale in the moonlight. It stuck its little head up to scent the breeze and turned away from it, burrowing back into the earth.

Maze brushed her fingertips over the top of the stone and passed on, climbing a small hill and resting her hand on the trunk of a yew tree. She let her human guise fall away and felt the starlight—what little there was of it—play across her withered skin.

She looked to the east, where the sun would rise in a few hours, and to the brightest star—that wasn’t a star—on the horizon.

She had been strong when Linda had died, strong with Dan and with Ella. She’d been strong even with Chloe, though the pain had compounded and, when it was all over, she’d put her fist through the wall in the depths of it. For Trixie she’d had to be strongest of all, keeping her face blank and her voice controlled, as that devious little girl she’d met all those years ago clung to her in her agony.

Maze looked down at her other hand, clutched around Miss Alien’s battered little body. The toy was stained a dozen times over, threadbare in places, colors faded by time and light. She brought it up to her face and breathed in the scent of family.

Anger clawed at her and she cried out, slamming her hand against the tree rather than hurt the fragile thing cradled in her arms. The wood creaked as she dug her fingers into it, relishing its roughness. Her eyes burned and she tore her gaze from the toy, fixing it back onto the slowly lightening sky.

“ _Please._ ” The word was gall on her tongue, but she swallowed down the bitterness. “Please, Lucifer, it’s too… it’s too much.”

She shut her eyes against tears and feelings she’d never truly become comfortable with, voice lowering to a hiss. “Why couldn’t you have just come back, you bastard?” Anger had sustained her for her entire life, but she was tired, now, and it failed her. She hung her head. “They’re all gone.” She sniffed. “I’m alone, I… Lucifer, _please_ take me back to Hell.”

But there was no response.

She growled and pulled her hand from the hollow she’d carved into the tree, wiping the blood and bark onto her pants. The serenity of this place only seemed oppressive now, the silence loud with her own panting breaths. She wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees, to lie down, to _give up_ , but she was Mazikeen, first of the Lilim, and she would never submit.

So what if she was alone? She’d been alone before. She would survive on this empty little Earth with these new little humans, and she would watch them age and die while she remained always the same, just as she had with Linda and Dan, Ella and Chloe—and with Trixie, whose bones were still cooling even as her soul ascended.

But Maze didn’t need anyone else. She hadn’t needed those dead humans, and she didn’t need new living ones. She didn’t need anything; she certainly didn’t need…

“Mazikeen.”

She looked up sharply.

Lucifer was framed in moonlight, dressed in his Hell raiment, silver and onyx crown gleaming upon his head. She watched him appraise the tear stains on her face, the black streaks on her hand, the cemetery and all its headstones. She gritted her teeth and took his regard as blankly as she could manage. He frowned and, when he continued to stand there in silence, she spoke.

“You didn’t come back for them.” The resurgence of her anger was sudden but not unexpected; it had always been her refuge.

“It was too dangerous to leave,” he said, voice harsh and strange, as if he were no longer used to the language. It would have been a very long time, she recalled suddenly, in Hell.

“And now?” She didn’t bother trying to hide the sneer that crossed her lips.

He blinked. “It’s still dangerous, but…” He sighed and turned away, watching dawn creep over the eastern sky. “You asked,” he said softly.

“They asked. They _pleaded._ ”

“ _They_ would have asked me to stay. And I can’t.” He looked back at her. There was a weariness in him that there hadn’t been before. “You had a request, I think,” he said stiffly. So the lord of Hell was back, it seemed.

She held out the little doll, not knowing exactly what she was doing, but feeling it needed to be done.

He took it as if by reflex and looked down at it. Lack of recognition drew his eyebrows together for a moment, but then he ran his finger over the loose thread where there had once been an eye and froze, as still as stone.

“Mazikeen…” And there was the voice she recognized, the softness that had driven both of them to their knees all those years ago that he, evidently, had buried.

“Two weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he said flatly, expression smoothing out. He tilted his head and considered her again. “Why are you…?”

She didn’t have an answer, and it rekindled her anger. She had no words either, so she resorted to action, stepping forward to yank the thing from his hand, so violently he staggered.

He scowled, righting himself imperiously. “Mazikeen…” His voice was low and threatening.

She dropped the doll to the ground and lunged forward, shoving at him, but he was prepared for the move and caught her wrist in an iron grip. “I will not tolerate this impertinence, demon.”

“Demon, now, is it?” She hooked her foot around his knee and jerked backward, dragging him down to scuffle on the ground. She knew he was stronger than her, but she fought with all the fierceness she had, clawing at anything she could reach.

His crown fell to the earth as she leveraged him beneath her, hands wrapped around his wrists.

He growled, eyes burning red in the darkness. “What are you _doing_ , Mazikeen?”

“Feel _something_.,” she said harshly.

He bucked, but she held on, keeping him pinned. He glared up at her. “What do you think you’re—?”

“Why won’t you grieve!?” she yelled in his face.

He rose under her like a snake, twisting in the air, and slamming her to the dirt. She spat blood and he grimaced, standing and brushing off his robes. “I never should have come,” he said, already turning away.

She scrambled to her feet. “Don’t you _care_?”

He stopped, his back stiffening. “Have you forgotten Hell? I _can’t_ care.”

“They’re _dead!_ Don’t you get that? They’re in Heaven and we’ll…” She sniffed again, almost proud of the show of weakness— _this is the strongest I’ve ever seen you._ “We’ll never see them again.” She slumped to the ground with her back against the tree. She hadn’t dared say it aloud until this moment, had barely even let herself think it.

After a long moment when she thought he might leave, he joined her, picking his crown out of the dust and running it through his hands. “I resolved myself to that a long time ago.”

She grabbed the doll where it’d fallen to the ground. It was dirty and she wiped the worst of it away. A tear slipped down her cheek and she let it fall.

“I-I loved them all,” he admitted quietly. “Did they… did they live well?”

She nodded. “They loved and laughed and cried and fucked and fought and, at the end, they got their rest. I made sure of it.”

He was staring at the crown again, eyes shining with starlight, tangling his fingers with the twisted strands of silver. “Hell has been… _bloody_ difficult without you.” He sighed. “Perhaps… perhaps together, we could be allowed to be…” But he shook his head, unable to continue.

“Everything hurts so fucking much here,” Maze said with a bitter laugh, hands tightening around Miss Alien again.

Lucifer returned his crown to his head and rose. “Would you come with me, Mazikeen?” he asked, offering his hand. He’d done this once before when she was young and scared and alone, abandoned by her family to the wilds of Hell, promising her he would protect her.

Resolved, finally, she took his hand and stood, still clutching the little toy. She looked back, one last time, at the stones the bones were resting under, at the sky at the edge of dawn, where the souls had gone to.

He drew out his wings, reached out, slowly, and brushed a strand of hair from her face. It may have been Hell, but at least they would be together. “Let’s go home,” he said, bringing her down into the darkness.


End file.
